


Cozy

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [13]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, New Relationship, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 17:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19977457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: “I take fashion risks all the time and you don’t seem to appreciate them."A quiet day in the Bashir-Garak household sees Julian and Elim learning more about what it means to be a couple.





	Cozy

If pressed to name just one drawback to living in a natural environment again, Julian would say “weather.”

On DS9, he could go for a leisurely stroll whenever he liked without sweltering, getting chilled, or ending up soaking wet. This is not the case on Vadari VII.

He and Elim had planned to spend the morning visiting a noted local waterfall, more for something to do than any great interest in waterfalls on either of their parts. Instead, they woke up to pouring rain which the partially-repaired weather sensor system failed to anticipate.

So they are at home, reading on the couch after a thoroughly enjoyable round of morning sex followed by breakfast and a bit of tidying up. Julian has no complaints about any of this, least of all the sex.

He would’ve liked a chance to walk, all the same. There _is_ something to be said for fresh air.

When he looks over, Elim is browsing a clothing catalogue and not looking impressed. “Looking to expand your offerings?” asks Julian. He knows the new shop got off to a slow start, and though Elim may not have to worry over meeting his basic living requirements – he’s still adjusting to his rights as a Federation resident – his need to feel useful is not to be dismissed. The recent uptick in business has been good for him.

“Sorvek is nearly ready to replace his mourning wardrobe, and asked if I might be able to special order Vulcan linen.”

Some members of the slightly emotional Vulcan community, Sorvek included, have re-embraced the ancient Vulcan concept of a mourning wardrobe consisting solely of the darkest greens and browns available. What sticks in Julian’s mind is the marker of time. The mourning period lasts eleven Vulcan months, equal to the species’ average gestation period and just under ten Earth months.

Sorvek’s daughter died in the Second Battle of Chin’toka, nine months ago now. In some ways, it was another lifetime for Julian.

He still misses Starfleet, the same as Elim misses Cardassia, but there is something beautiful about the quiet joy they find in their relationship. Julian had his grand adventure, Elim continues to serve Cardassia by his absence, they helped win the war and save the quadrant. Both of them know they never could’ve had this kind of relationship before or in other circumstances, so as silver linings go, it’s a major one.

“I wonder if it feels strange to him to call it ‘Vulcan linen’ as opposed to the native term,” muses Julian.

“The native term is unpronounceable by the rest of us.”

“Vulcan is notorious for that.”

“Hmm, well, their taste in clothing isn’t the worst I’ve seen, but I’ve yet to see a Vulcan take a fashion risk.”

“I take fashion risks all the time and you don’t seem to appreciate them,” says Julian, just to needle Elim a little for the fun of it.

“You do no such thing, my dear. You simply wear whatever bright colors catch your eye.”

“And it’s always risking your disapproval. Besides, I remember what you were wearing when we met, so don’t tell me you hate bright colors.”

“It was a bold choice at the time. I’ve since favored more classic styles.”

They go back to their respective padds for another ten minutes, at which point Julian sets his down. He’s ready for a break from medical journals. “We should do something,” he says. “I’m in the mood for new and different.”

It’s the kind of day where he’d try a holosuite program almost at random so long as he’d never used it before. That’s not an option here, so he’s open to ideas.

“If you’re looking for new entertainment, I suppose you could start learning Cardassi.”

It’s a casual enough suggestion that Julian wouldn’t have thought anything of it until recently. Now, having seen Elim force a neutral façade over his months working in the orchard and appear to bounce back quickly after a depressing news report out of Cardassia, he knows better. Elim is more invested in the prospect of Julian learning Cardassi than he’s letting on.

Julian thinks he knows what’s going on here. The effort he’s put into figuring this man out over the years hasn’t been in vain. “Elim, I’m your partner. You’re allowed to ask me for things which will make you happy.”

“Is it that simple for humans?”

“Yes, it is.”

If this is a cultural difference, Julian will be surprised. He saw how Tain denied Elim almost to his dying breath, which means Elim has a long history of not getting what he wants. Asking would simply be setting himself up for rejection.

Elim knows Julian knows, and tilts his head slightly in recognition. “Does that mean you’ll consider it?”

“I don’t need to consider it. We can start as soon as I get a drink.”

This earns him one of Elim’s soft, gently pleased smiles. “Few humans have ever taken the time to learn Cardassi, but I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge admirably.”

Julian may not speak Cardassi yet, but he’s reasonably fluent in Elim Garak. The preceding comment, in addition to its literal meaning, translates roughly to _Thank you for caring about my happiness._

“I’ll have the advantage of a dedicated teacher,” he replies. On his way to the kitchen he stops to caress Elim’s right eyeridge with his fingers, letting that say, _Always._

Among the many fascinating pieces of knowledge he’s picked up in the last two weeks, Julian has learned Elim loves little touches. His partner is forever finding ways to reach out, whether it’s a hand on Julian’s shoulder or a brush of their legs together. In turn, it pleases him greatly when Julian initiates such contact.

Julian is happy to oblige. He’s fairly sure these particular gentle intimacies mean more to Elim, but he enjoys them nevertheless. Elim returns the favor in the kissing department, at which he’s improving because he’s applied himself with great determination.

When he returns with a glass of water, Elim has a stylus and his padd ready for freehand writing. “We’ll begin with the alphabet,” he says.

It’s not hard for Julian to recognize the letters. That’s simple memorization. Pronouncing them, and even trickier, writing them himself, is going to take a lot more work.

“No hard J sound. That’s disappointing.” It is the first letter in his name, and he doesn’t think the soft J is very… him.

“I’m afraid you’re Jhulian in Cardassi.”

Julian makes a face. Elim doesn’t bother to hide his amusement.

“Count yourself fortunate I learned Standard young enough to pronounce your name correctly.”

“I do,” says Julian. “I really do.” He leans in on Elim’s left side, patting a knee to underline that he’s not just talking about pronunciation. “Show me how to write your name.”

In bed that night, he traces both of their names in Cardassi letters on Elim’s back.


End file.
